But in the train going home her aunt reasoned it out. Anna, who had sung the first verse of her song, looked around the house, a little surprised at the absence of the applause which had never yet failed her. This was his humiliation as well as hers. “Well, I don’t want you to talk to him,” he said, very firmly. ‘Seems quiet enough,’ observed the junior officer, his gaze raking the shuttered windows of the building’s grey stone frontage. Still, his robust frame enabled him to hold out. He is not in a state of mind to bear it.
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